The Sex You Never Had Wasn’t That Good

“You’re the 186th sexiest man to write a post using lions and monkeys in it.”

The email is strange and incorrect which somehow compels me to not only read it but respond.

“There were no monkeys in it but there was a baboon. Unless you are saying I referred to a monkey in it but unless you know more than I think you know, there were no such things.”

They say our childhood has a significant influence on who we grow up to be and what we believe we can do/become.

If that is so I suppose this clip has something to do with my beliefs in my ability to handle more challenging situations.

Sometimes I find merit in trying to determine the root of such things and other times it makes no difference because unless there is a significant downside in believing I can figure it out and I will there is no reason to look backwards.

The Sex You Never Had Wasn’t That Good

I am working out with some of the younger guys at the gym and taking some good natured ribbing about loud breathing.

“Hey old man, don’t have a heart attack.”

“Hey old timer, maybe you shouldn’t take the Viagra because we don’t think your heart can take it.”

I smile and tell them they are right.

“You know things down below stop working right after you turn 45.”

I sigh deeply and resume lifting.

Eventually one of them asks if I am serious.

I nod my head solemnly and tell them not to worry. “If she really loves you she’ll find a way to help you out. Maybe she’ll buy you a splint.”

For a moment they laugh because they are certain I am screwing with them.

“Dude, what do you do?”

“I told you there is no need to worry. Learn how to kiss your girl and you’ll be good.”

“Right, like you’d know about that old man.”

I smile again and nod my head but say nothing, mostly because I need to breathe to exercise more than I need to speak.

“Children just remember the sex you never had wasn’t that good.”

“Dude, that makes no sense.”

“It does if I am calling you the King Of Hyperbole.”

The good natured ribbing goes on for a little while longer and then I am spent. One giant yawn and a final stretch and I have to roll.

Who Will Sit With Me?

Antisemitism is rising all around the country/world on the far left and the right.

Social justice warriors argue and dispute my claim, making every sort of excuse for why I am wrong and or misguided.

They fight tooth and nail to protect their side but refuse to engage in real conversation about why they might be wrong or lack the full story.

“You wouldn’t let Nazis try to speak or allow them to push their lies.”

I shake my head and tell them there is no equivalency between the two and suggest they engage in dialogue.

“If your position is noble and true there is no doubt that hearing a different perspective will not hurt. Hell, I can argue your side and mine. Can you do the same?”

They reject my position and push back without any real engagement.

Current circumstances have consumed most of my patience and tolerance so my response isn’t as measured as it could or should be.

Part of me doesn’t care but another says I should remember the lurkers.

“Be civil and present facts and you might pull some people to our side.”

It is smart advice and one that I have given many times but I just don’t have it in me now.

****

I am sitting on the bench by myself and composing a silent list of things that must be done.

My heart hurts.

It aches.

Who will sit with me?

No one today, maybe not any time soon.

Got to dig deep and find the reserves.

Bells go off inside my head and I look up at the sky expecting to see a clip of my future play out on endless blue skies.

Maybe it is nonsense and maybe it is not.